Danger: Knots ahead.

Who knew that pretzels were such a thing in this town. You can find them not only in the 10 restaurants and trucks and bakeries and beerhalls below, but also in too many fine German restaurants and pubs to list.

They’re called “lye rolls” in this perfectionist new Wallingford bakery—for the coating which helps them brown—but they’re a lot like pretzel rolls. Sea Wolf scatters them with sesame seeds or, for a more dramatic swoon, stuffs them with cheese.

Tom Douglas’s breakfast-juice-coffee-burger-and-lots of other stuff bar in the lobby of Via6 can build its breakfast sandwiches on pretzel bagels, or just shmear stuff on ‘em. Either way—hell, plain—these bagels feature all the delectable dough and spring of the pretzels they impersonate.

So they call it a brezel here—German for pretzel—but we’re pretty sure you’d have figured that out yourself. (May you have as much luck with the kartoffelsalat.) That brezel is a stunner: chewy and fluffy, with housemade sweet hot mustard, boutique salt, and optional beer cheese sauce.

One of the most beloved favorites, in a pub filled with beloved favorites, is the plump pretzel with Welsh rarebit: a traditional British cheese sauce enhanced with beer and mustard and pepper. We don’t know Quinn’s precise recipe…we just know it’s dreamy.

The happiest spot in Leschi offers on its lunch and dinner menus a warm, soft pretzel with a sauce mingling dark porter, white cheddar, and mustard. This kind of snack comes in handy wherever boozy drinks are the focus—which they assuredly are here.

If the entirety of Leavenworth got crammed into an airplane hangar it’d be Rhein Haus, with German atmo by the ton amid the bocce ball games and dorm-fuls of Seattle U students. And pretzels, huge ones, with four sauces (we like the beer-Emmental) and/or brats in house-made pretzel buns.

A decent percentage of this brilliant bakery’s firepower goes into its pretzel production: pretzels, pretzel dogs, pretzel sandwich rolls (ask for bieberle), and excessively delicious pretzel knots. (Psst: You'll see these in restaurants from time to time.)

Pretzels are made in the brick oven of this rollicking Tom Douglas bar, and they are fresh, hot, buttery, yeasty marvels. The six dips (three are mustards) are all good; the peanut butter and bacon dip offers smoke, salt, and unexpected satisfaction.

This artisan spot is a lot of people’s favorite baker—it’s organic and it peddles its bread at farmers markets in addition to its Ballard bakery. It also features terrific Munich-style hand-formed pretzels: crusty on the outside, soft on the inside.